Box of Memories
by fluffy kitty of darkness
Summary: Never in a million years did Harry Potter expect to receive a letter from his cousin. Nor a box left to him by his aunt.


The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 6 / Round 8

Position: Captain

Team: Kenmare Kestrels

Prompt - K-drama Special - The End of that Summer. Theme - finding out your loved one/partner/family hid something major from you and left you with that something (debt/a child/a cursed object etc) and what you do about it.

Thank you so much to Ky-chan - (ValkryieAce) For helping me and beta'ing my story. And Dessie (desertredwolf) for inspiring me. :)

* * *

Harry Potter fidgeted with his glasses and stirred his cup of coffee with a spoon, desperately trying to ignore the growing awkward silence.

Muggle London was as energetic as he remembered it. During one of the rare times he had taken Ginny out on a proper date, he had shown her the fascinating excursion of Muggles traveling to and from their their jobs, coffee shops, and televisions. Her amazement and baffled expressions during that day were so similiar to Mr. Weasley that Harry couldn't stop himself from smiling at the memory.

Then he realized what he was doing and dropped the smile.

The partner sitting across from him cleared his throat and Harry smiled faintly. "Sorry, just lost in the memories... eh, Dudley."

Dudley Dursley didn't look like he had changed a bit in the past five years and Harry was quite befuddled to be sitting across from his cousin in a coffee shop in Muggle London. Many strange occurrences had happened to him over the years but this was on the top of that list. He sipped his coffee, waiting for Dudley to speak first. He was the one that had contacted him, after all.

"... How have you been?" Dudley asked, staring at the table.

He gave a shrug. "I've been alright. How about you?"

His cousin gave a shrug as well. "Fine."

...

Merlin, he was going to have to do all the work here. He pondered over all his choices before choosing a topic that had been bugging him since this morning, when he had gotten a hastily written letter by a bad-tempered owl.

"How did you find me?"

Dudley lit up at the question and began explaining to him about the new couple that had moved into his neighborhood a week ago with strange luggage and owls flying around the house like wasps to a nest. Harry found himself vaguely amused at the resemblance to Aunt Petunia and the way she used to gossip about the selfish neighbors. He shook his head and brought his cup up again for a sip.

"So, you figured out they were wizards and you asked to use their owl?" Surprisingly impressive for Dudley Dursley.

"... not exactly," he looked sheepish enough that it only took a few moments for Harry to put it together.

"You kidnapped an owl?!"

"It sounds bad when you say it like that." Dudley scowled.

The beady glare and harsh nip to his fingers this morning made a lot more sense now. "Please tell me you gave the owl back."

"Of 'course, I did. I just had to send one letter, didn't I?"

"And why did you send that letter? It sounded important. You said you had something to give me?" His gaze fell on a cardboard box besides Dudley that looked like it had seen better days.

His expression turned from annoyed to somber at the question. "About that..."

Harry waited patiently and when he heard the answer, he froze in surprise.

"Mum passed away in a car accident around two week ago."

For a small amount of time, Harry was at a loss for words. How was he suppose to respond? Questionable child-raising aside, Petunia had still been a presence in his entire childhood. His aunt. News of her death only brought a sick feeling to his stomach. He pushed his coffee away.

"I'm sorry."

Dudley nodded faintly.

"The funeral?"

"It already happened... and I couldn't find a way to contact you until this last week." Dudley looked so somber as he explained that Harry couldn't find it in him to be upset.

His cousin lifted the box on the table between them and Harry spotted a small corner of the cardboard that had his name written in handwriting that had been burned in his memory off of gas bills and checks. _Aunt Petunia's handwriting.._

"I found this in her room. I think maybe she wanted to give it to you when she met you again."

Personally, he doubted that Aunt Petunia had ever wanted to see him again, but he stayed silent regardless because the sight of his name in her handwriting had struck a strange chord in him. The tape on the top had been removed and was crinkled over the top. "You opened it?"

Dudley flushed. "Sorry... I didn't see your name on it at the time."

That made Harry stiffen. Dudley had just apologized. To _him._

"That's... fine." Harry replied, slightly baffled. He tugged the box towards him and started to open it. On first glance, it was filled with letters, the words — _Petunia Evans —_ written daintly across the top of each. With a frown, he flipped through them. _Letters_?

"There's an album at the bottom too." Dudley spoke up helpfully.

"Album?"

Dudley replied. "With pictures of Aunt Lily. Those letters..." He nodded at the stack in Harry's hand. "They are letters from your mum... to my mum."

Suddenly, it felt like Harry was carrying a heavy weight in his palm. Like a small piece of history from a woman that had affected his life so much. Some of them were older than the others, some were faded, while some looked like they had been opened and closed many times that the paper was wearing at the creases. The writing on the front slowly went from sloppy cursive to confident scrawls. It was similar to Aunt Petunia's handwriting, yet subtly different.

He flipped one over and unfolded the letter.

 _Dear Petunia,_

 _There are so many things to tell you about Hogwars that I have no idea where to start!_

The writing blurred in front of him and Harry tried to blink away the sudden urge to cry. There was one thing he had always sworn to never do and that was cry in front of his cousin. Being chased or bullied as a kid, Harry still had his pride.

But as always, Dudley was a man of few words, he stood up and awkwardly collected up the dishes on the table and muttered, "I'll be right back."

Harry nodded in reply and started to fold up the collection of memories that had been given to him. He paused at the sight of a tied stack of letters that was seperate from the rest. Perplexed, he lifted it from the box and read the familiar scrawl — _Lily Evans._

 _Oh._

There were more than just bits of his mother's history in this box.

By the time Dudley returned to the table, Harry had already packed away the box and had come to a quick decision. "Dudley, do you have a pen?"

His cousin fumbled in his pockets and handed one over. "Uh, yeah... there you go."

Harry took his napkin and wrote down an address. "Can you meet me here next week?"

"Huh?" Dudley took the napkin with surprise. "Yeah, I can do that. You...want to meet again?"

"I thought maybe we could set you up with an owl. So we can talk to each other." Harry continued sheepishly, "I don't have a phone."

Dudley looked like he was at a loss for words and Harry tilted his head towards the box. "I thought maybe you'd like to know a bit more about your aunt. My mum."

His cousin's face slowly broke into a grin. "I'd love that."

...

Indeed, it had been a strange day for Harry Potter.


End file.
